


Freedom Child

by PrincessAmericaChavez



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Above canon typical violence, Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Human Trafficking, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Post Episode: s02e25, Post-Canon, Slavery, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-30 16:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15100946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessAmericaChavez/pseuds/PrincessAmericaChavez
Summary: Fjord should've taken watch by himself. Then he might be alone in this mess, but at least Yasha and Jester would be safe. Instead, now the three of them are stuck here.Fjord is desperate to protect his friends the way they've done with him time and time again, but for the first time in months he feels truly powerless.





	1. Taken

It takes him embarrassingly long to realize that something is wrong. His gaze is lost in the stars above and his thoughts wander on the events of the day, on what they accomplished and on the family they helped. He likes having made a difference. Life hasn't given him many chances to be selfless, to really do as Molly does and 'leave each town better than he found it' —his own survival has often depended on looking after himself first and others second— but the drive has always been there and to finally indulge in it and succeed feels like the biggest success they've had so far, bigger than money and recognition and anything else their new little found group has accomplished. That's where his mind is at when his brain registers the fact that Jester is no longer talking. If feels weird, his brain was fully expecting her to continue to ramble and the following silence feels off and unsettling.

Fjord looks down just in time to notice Yasha and Jester's worried faces, their lips moving but no sound coming out of them. Immediately, his alarms go off. He tries to turn around to find out what the hell is going on, and his muscles tense and stop responding. 

_Shit. Shit shit shit. Not again._

He's been here before, way back when they fought the manticore, and he hated every damn second of it. It's no different this time. Before his eyes, Yasha freezes too, hand midway through reaching for her sword. He summons his falchion too, and the loyal weapon appears in his hand obediently. It's useless, though, since he can't move a muscle or get his mouth to even conjure the simplest of spells. From the corner of his eyes, Fjord sees Jester still moving and his chest swells with hope. 

 _Run,_ he thinks with all his might.  _Run, Jester. Run away._

She turns around and he sees her stop abruptly and struggle against someone. He can't quite make out what's going on. 

An outside foce moves Fjord's arms abruptly, pulling them backwards without him being able to put up even the slightest fight. He feels cold metal closing around his wrists, something sneaks between his lips, tight and uncomfortable enough to nearly make him gag. The way he's being mamhandled, at least, lets his eyes catch Jester, as she too is being restrained. Yasha, however, moves suddenly, bringing her sword down with all her might. Fjord feels hope resurge inside him, because Yasha is strong and powerful and an unstoppable force if he's ever seen one. This men are fucked. Or so he thinks. 

In seconds that feel like hours, he sees several men holding the barbarian down. Fjord doesn't get to see how the struggle ends. His feet are pulled from under him —literally— and his face hits the ground hard enough for him to see stars. His vision blurs and the next thing he knows is the pain of being dragged through grass, dirt and rocks. He's not even afforded the luxury of wincing from the pain the rough terrain brings to him. The next thing he's able to register, is sitting up right and looking ahead at a dark tall figure. 

Fjord feels his body return to him, his muscles respond to his command and his resistance, but it's too late to fight back. He's tied up, manacled and surrounded. He turns his head and finds Jester sitting by his side. She looks scared but resolved, as she does in battle. She sends him a look he knows well, paired with half a smirk that is mischievous, even distorted by the gag in her mouth. Jester isn't giving up. She has a plan. She wiggles a little, tenses her muscles. Fjord nods slightly to encourage her on. Jester scrunches her face, pushing on and on, making the ropes whine under the pressure of her arms and maybe if they-

The sound of the slap comes loud and unexpectedly and rings in Fjord's ears. His breath catches in his throat. The world seems to stop. All he sees is Jester bent over by his side and the hand that struck her hovering before his eyes. 

A deep growl leaves his throat, more orcish than human. For the first time since he can remember, Fjord wishes he had more of that side of his blood in himself. Maybe if he did, if he had that brutal strength and savagery he's so long tried to deny, he'd be able to break out of his bounds and help his friends. Instead, he has to simmer with fury as he watches the second man grab Jester's chin and lift it up to look at her face, like she's some prized horse he's thinking to acquire. _Don't fucking touch her,_ he wants to shout but his gagged mouth is useless.

When it's Fjord's turn to be measured and analyzed, all he can do is stare down at the man, learn his face, his hard factions, the way the tattoo curls around the side of his face, and mostly his eyes. He's analyzed and imitated enough faces to know what cruelty looks like. The man reaches Yasha and laughs at her fire when she tries to spit to his face. Fjord inwardly hopes that that comment will come and bite him right in the ass.

"Two with divine blood and one half beast," the man's voice matches his eyes. 

Fjord feels something cold curl inside his stomach —fear, for the first time tonight— when it hits him: that's what this man sees them as, not people, not equals in an unfortunate situation, not even victims, just _creatures_ below his so precious humanity. 

That same cold is still curling inside him while he's suddenly pulled again, dragged through even worse terrain and dropped into a cage like an animal. The cart they are in moves and Fjord, finally away from surrounding enemies, takes in his surroundings, the other people crying and whimpering around him terrified and at the mercy of this monsters. Real monsters, not whatever the people think he is. The cold in his stomach turns heavy as lead. Here he was, proud of himself for helping a small family to reunite, while so many others were suffering this fate. 

Movement by his side catches his sight. He turns around to see Jester who's quietly crying and cuddled up to Yasha's side. The barbarian leans her cheek against the small tiefling's head, in what might have even been a hug if both their hands hadn't been restrained. Jester looks small, younger than ever (even when he knows she's no defenseless child), a dark mark spreading across her cheek where she was struck. His heart  _aches_ from seeing her like that and being unable to protect her. He can't do anything. He  _promised_ he would, when they started traveling together. They said they would look after each other, and at every turn she's had his back and brought him back from the brink of certain death, but he can't even return the favor now when she's most scared and small.

Fjord shuffles too inside the cage until his back is against Jester's back. From outside, it might almost seem like he's ignoring her, purposely trying to avoid the guilt of seeing her like this. In reality, it's the only way he can position himself so that his restrained hands find hers. He finds small slender fingers, soft under his calloused skin, and holds on to them gently. Jester grasps his hands back tightly, shaking within his hold. Fjord sighs, and leans his head back until it touches hers, he closes his eyes and listens to her shaky breathing. 

 _It's going to be alright,_ he wishes he could say, if his mouth could work its way around the gag restraining it.  _I swear, I'll get us all out of this. At least the two of you, if it's the last thing I do._

He can't say anything, though. All he can do is be here and offer his touch.

His mind travels back down the road, through the woods and trees, until it reaches the small clearing where their other companions sleep soundly, unaware of these horrors. At least, that's what he'd like to think. He refuses to imagine the alternative, that they'd been murdered in their deep sleep when Fjord failed to warn them of the danger on time. _No_. No, he can't afford to think like that right now. _They are alright, they are alive, they are further way with every passing second, but as soon as they wake up they will realize what happened._

And then, what? Will they come charging after them? Will they risk their lives for people they've barely known for a month or two? Fjord wants to believe they would, with every part of his soul, he wants to believe they  _will._ And yet, if life has taught Fjord anything, it's that he can't rely on anyone other than himself to survive. 

 _You're not alone this time, though. Yasha and Jester need you too. They are counting on you. You_ are  _here for them, like no one else was for you._

He feels Jester's fingers tighten in his hold and he squeezes her hand right back.

He's going to fix this.


	2. A Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just another dark twist to add to his list of scars and losses, but something feels different: this time, he's not alone and it's not only his own life on the line.

Fjord doesn't sleep. He can't. He's too aware of the danger they are all in, of how quickly their lives could take another sharp twist, or end if they are unlucky. Fjord's never considered himself fortunate, if anything his own survival has depended of himself and his own resolve to fight time and time again against every misfortune life has thrown his way. This is just another dark twist to add to his list of scars and losses, but something feels different: this time, he's not alone and it's not only his own life on the line.

A sharp reminder of this is Jester's head resting on his shoulder, her breathing is slow and shaky with the ghost of her sobs and her tail is tightly wrapped around his waist. She tried to use it to free their mouths, to give them at least a chance to cast a spell and free themselves, but it was useless and in the end she'd given in to exhaustion and collapsed. It's better that way, he thinks. Sleep will give her a comfort he could not provide right now.

Yasha doesn't sleep either. Her eyes are set somewhere far away, looking out the cart's tiny window. There's stars in the sky and a crescent moon that is too pale and small to chase away the darkness. Fjord wishes he could reach an arm out towards her, squeeze her shoulder the way Venrin used to do for him when he could sense him losing faith. He wishes he could at the very least talk, use the words that he's so carefully learnt to wave to reassure her that one way or another they'll get out of this mess.

Yasha's mismatched eyes meet his suddenly, as if she could feel his thoughts. She looks scared. He's not expecting that. In his mind, she's untouchable, unstoppable, fearless in every way he's not. Today, suddenly, she looks _young_. So Fjord reacts the way he best knows how to, he puts on a mask. He pretends confidence, sets his jaw and gives her a firm nod. He sees the way her face relaxes a little. She nods back, in agreement

* * *

Maybe he doze off for a while, because he's startled awake when they come to a sudden stop. Jester screams a little through the gag and jumps next to him. Her horn hits him on the jaw and she mumbles something that would probably have been an apology if she could speak, just as his words would've been a reassurance if the gag wasn't twisting his tongue.

There's voices outside. He leans as much as he can in their confined space to eavesdrop. 

"...got here?" someone says outside.

"Just some cargo, you know. We're on our way to Zadash to sell the latest produce."

"Mind if we take a look?"

"By all means."

Fjord tries to make a noice but once again finds himself muted. There's suddenly not a single sound around them. Fuck. 

The back of the cart opens and a torch sheds light into the area, revealing boxes amd sacks of food, no cages, no people.

Jester shuffles between him and Yasha, still soundless, and starts pushing a side of the cage with her shoulder. Yasha sends Fjord a look, then starts pushing too.

_Oh. Oh, right._

Fjord joins the girls in pushing, though he knows his strength is considerably lesser than theirs. He puts his weight on it, though, joins them in pushing once, twice, three times until- 

The cage tilts over and falls forward. Unable to brace himself, Fjord lands on his face. Him, Jester and Yasha become a mess of silent limbs trying to recover from the impact.

"What was that?" the crowns guard asks, startled.

"Probably just a crate. The road's been a pain in the ass, some things move around and fall over. Nothing to worry about."

The guard hums. Fjord can see him squinting towards them, looking straight into their eyes unknowingly. 

_C'mon. Please. Look closer. C'mon._

The guard gestures to get inside the cart. 

"Mind if I take a closer lo-"

Whatever silent zone they are in, the guard enters it and his surprise is immediate. As he's turning around, a blast hits him straight in the chest. He falls unconscious. The kidnapper climbs in after him and without missing a beat he drives his sword through the man's throat. Jester flinches against him and turns around to hide her face.

Chaos breaks outside. There's screams and swords crashing, magic sparkling through the air. The silent spell dispels, meaning either the caster was killed or is busy with something else. Fjord sure hopes the fucker is done for.

After a few minutes, silence returns. Mostly. There's still voices outside but Fjord can't make out what they are saying or who they are. The torch light returns to the carr suddenly, the figure holding it is obscured by the contrast. As he walks forward, the three of them sit back up expectantly.

Fjord's heart drops when he recognizes the same cruel eyes emerge from the shadows. Another growl rumbles in the back of his throat as their captor smirks.

"Good try," he says, voice filled with irony and amusement, "but not good enough. Next time, you'll start losing limbs."

He stands back up and turns around to leave but half a step later he falls on his face. Fjord catches a flash of blue slithering back into the cage just in case to remain hidden from the man's eyes. 

_Dammit, Jester._

The man turns around and sends them an accusatory look. All three of them remain still. Fjord looks appropriately furious and Jester still seems scared, even if he can recognize a sparkle of determination behind her eyes.

After a brief hesitation, their captor resumes his way wordlessly.

Jester glances up at Fjord once he's gone and Fjord gives her a nod and a tight smile of approval. It was a good try. It may not have worked, but they need to keep taking every chance they get. No giving up. 


End file.
